Brave New World
by blinkypoet
Summary: A human from 21st century Earth is tossed into the world of Velgarth.
1. Chapter 1

This is set during the beginning of the Mage Storms

This is set during the beginning of the Mage Storms. No, I don't own Velgarth. Sure wish I did!

I ran, panting heavily, ignoring the yelling from behind, concentrating only on getting away. My breath fogged the air around my face and inevitably my glasses as well, but by then I was far enough into the heavier trees that I knew it would take them awhile to stop arguing enough to bother asking Mik to track me down. I cursed softly as my foot caught in a root and I went for a dizzying tumble on cold, frost hardened ground barely covered with a thin layer of paper-thin leaves and sharp smelling but brittle pine needles. Unfortunately for me, my glasses went spinning off in another direction and I spent probably 45 minutes running my hands futilely across the earth searching desperately for the small shiny things. Finally I found them under the outermost branches of a giant pine tree. Broken, of course. I sighed and stuck them back on my face as best as I could. Continuing deeper into the pine trees that were more and more plentiful here, I caught my glasses as they fell off my face every so often. My pace slowed as I looked up in wonder at the towering pines, my steps hushed by a thick and aromatic layer of crunchy pine needles beneath my feet. How had these magnificent giants survived the clearing of this land for development? Not once, but twice the land had been cleared, but these things looked truly ancient.

The wind picked up, swaying the thick needle-laden branches and I shivered, having forgotten to grab my heavier winter jacket in my outward flight. Stretching as I walked, I wondered at the pine needle covered track I had literally stumbled into. It looked too well used to be from the old homestead that I knew was somewhere on the property and it wasn't on any of the trail maps. There were no vehicle tracks and I knew the boss or Mik drove those trails every so often to check them for trespassers and their trash.

A strange drumming tickled at my ears and I froze. The rhythmic thunder of hooves got louder as it drew closer. Instinctively I scrambled into the depths of a pine bough laden tree. Shivering, I peered myopically through the green needles, wondering who would be riding a horse, full out, way back _here_? We had specially cleared riding rings for that. As the horse and rider flashed by, I gaped. The pair looked like an escaped equestrian performer team from a Renaissance Festival. But this area was too sparsely populated to support something like that, I knew. A shiver skittered across my backbone. After the frantic hoof-beats had faded, I crept out of my hiding place and walked in the opposite direction, figuring if that had been someone the boss had managed to cajole into looking for me, it might be a good idea to go the other way.

The two pine covered furrows continued on for what seemed a long ways, even though I thought it could have been no more than five minutes. Then the overgrown path joined a wider, hard-packed dirt _road_. I shook my head. There were no roads like this that _I_ knew of on or around the property where I had worked. I shivered. Oh well. I had wanted to get away from work and since I didn't drive, walking was the only way to do it. My feet protested as I continued along the hard packed earth that looked like it had been in use for ages.

Somewhere along the way, I lost track of time while listening to the gentle noise of the forest, which was soothing enough. Still something about this place gave me the creeps. And I couldn't get the image of a tall, thin, man with startling white hair and a pure white horse out of my head. I'd never seen either one at the ranch and didn't know where my frazzled brain had come up with the image. I was so engrossed in puzzling over this that I did not notice the traveler until he called out to me from a top the well-trained horse that stopped at his unseen signal.

The man seemed tall from his place on the well worn saddle, bright blond hair waving in the breeze. Blue eyes stared at me from amid the brightest costume I had ever seen. He was dressed from head to toe in bright _red_.

"Excuse me, young lady, but what are you doing out here dressed like _that_?" His horse snorted at me as if to emphasize his rider's point, but didn't sidle. It had some training at least.

I frowned. What was wrong with the way I was dressed? These were decent, if somewhat grubby, work clothes. At least I didn't look like an escapee from a Ren Fest! "I beg your pardon? What _seems_ to be the matter with how I'm dressed?" Even though I tried to suppress the sarcasm, some still leaked through into my voice.

He looked me up and down, blue eyes twinkling. "You're dressed like a field worker, milady. A man, at that. There are no farms around here for miles. Where did you come from?"

My jaw dropped. For _miles_? Oh dear. "Uh, where am I sir?"

Both blond eyebrows rose. "In Valdemar, young miss. On a road that runs along the edge of the Forest of Sorrows."

_Where_? None of those names sounded the least bit familiar to me and I frowned more at the thought that this was some elaborate joke. My glasses chose that moment to slide off my face and I cursed softly as I heard them hit the ground dangerously close to the iron-shod hooves of the man's horse. Sighing, I slowly knelt in the dirt and began searching for the blasted things. The next thing I knew, the oddly costumed man had leapt off his horse, muttering about his lack of manners and had snatched my glasses from beneath my very fingertips.

I stood slowly. Great. He had my glasses and I couldn't see a blasted thing without them.

"My apologies, young lady. I did not mean to startle you into losing your spectacles." At least his voice was not totally outraged as it had been seconds earlier. I heard him turning the fragile things over in his hands and sighed again. "These appear to be broken, milady. And constructed of the oddest materials I have ever seen." He took my hand and carefully placed my precious glasses in my palm, along with another piece that had chosen the opportunity to escape.

"Thank you," I breathed, trying to balance them on my nose again.

Once his face came into focus from the surrounding blur of colors, I smiled. Perhaps it would be best to play along with this charade for a bit and see where it went. It would be better than going back to beg for charity from my now former employer. The ass.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've never heard of those places before," I said as he wrapped his horse's reins around his wrist carefully.

Again those blond eyebrows rose. "Where are you from, young lady?"

"Minnesota, in the northern United States." His totally blank stare made my stomach sink.

"And I, milady, have never heard of those places either. But perhaps we should discuss it over some food. Have you had lunch yet?" He evidently had decided to go along with the charade as well, I thought disgustedly. My stomach, sunken though it was, growled eagerly at the mention of food and I shook my head, embarrassed. I missed his amused smile as my glasses chose to make another break for freedom and I actually caught them this time.

"Then allow me to offer you a ride to the next town, milady, where we may break our noontime fast," he said, bowing deeply.

The horse and I exchanged dubious looks. "I don't ride very well, sir."

"That's quite alright, the Lady Brighteyes is a gentle steed and won't offer you any trouble." He mounted with an ease that made me instantly jealous and offered me his hand. "Just put your foot in the stirrup there and swing up behind me." He had shifted some of the things that were attached to the saddle around so there was now room for me. "Come come, lady, there is nothing to fear! Bard Evan will not let any harm come to you!"

Perhaps it was the blue eyes that did it. Or the blond hair. Either way, I finally took the proffered hand and, holding onto my rebellious glasses with the other, swung up behind him and settled myself amongst the saddlebags and bedrolls and things. Carefully wrapping one arm around his waist, I wondered suddenly what the heck had I just gotten myself into?

"There you are! Now my name is Evan Copperbright. I am a Bard from the Bardic Collegium in Haven, which is the capitol city of the country of Valdemar. Who are you?"

Sighing, I tucked my mangled glasses into a pocket on my work vest. "My name is Anna Tessler. I am, or was, a ranch hand and clerk at the Happy Hooves boarding stables."

"If you worked with horses, then why don't you ride well?" He wondered.

"Because exercising the horses wasn't part of my job. And I guess I never saw the need to learn more of it." I shrugged.

"Ah." The smile was obvious in his voice.

From there, our conversation wandered from topic to topic and I marveled at the depth of this charade, if charade it was! This man- a Bard he called himself, had to be a consummate actor to pull this off. If this was all an act, why waste the effort on me?

The hours passed and soon I dozed fitfully against Evan's solid back, waking only when the horse stopped and my friend stirred from his position. "Wake, young Anna! We have come to signs of civilization at last!"

A huge yawn made my jaw crackle uncomfortably and I fished for my glasses quickly. The scene swam into view, resolving into a dirt-packed square with people and animals walking here and there. It was nothing like what I had expected. So I took stock of the available options and chose one: I fainted, giving in to the dizziness that made my head spin even worse than the strange surroundings. Unfortunately I was still on the horse.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke to candle light and a cool cloth at my forehead. "Urghh. What a strange dream," I mumbled.

"Dream or not, it is time to wake, my friend."

That voice- it had been in my dream. I sat up quickly, then groaned as hammers seemed to pound inside my head and I nearly collapsed back into the soft bed from dizziness. The flicker of soft candle light on rough wood walls was more soothing than harsh light bulbs, thankfully.

A hand steadied me as I swayed back and forth. "You took a bit of a knock falling off my horse. Thankfully the healer says you'll be fine."

This was not a dream, nor a charade, I realized sadly. Somehow I had been taken from the known confines of my small town to an unknown land. I gritted my teeth. I did _not_ want to faint again. It would waste more time. Clearing my throat, I gratefully took the cup of water from him and drank. "I'm sorry Bard Evan, I have dizzy spells sometimes. Even my doctor doesn't know what to do about them." Stalling though it was, it seemed to mollify him temporarily.

"The Healer said you were fine, but did not pry beyond what he felt necessary." The frown was evident in his voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to inconvenience you-" I viciously quelled my rising panic. If my only guide in this weird place were to abandon me-

"Nonsense! You were obviously weary from the ride! Now, are you still hungry?"

I smiled. The man was so kind! "Of course, sir! But I don't have any money-"

He delicately laid my even more battered glasses in my hands. "Nonsense again! You shall tell me stories of your homeland and I shall make sure you have proper food and drink so that you don't grow tired of telling your tale!" An oddly callused hand helped me to my feet and out into the main room of what turned out to be an inn.

Thankfully not much attention was paid to us until Evan guided me gently to a wooden bench next to the largest stone fireplace I have ever seen. Inwardly, I smiled. Mom would just kill for this kind of décor! Rough cut wooden tables and benches were just the beginning. A time-polished plank laid over several huge stained barrels made for a bar. The bartender behind it somehow made me queasy for some reason. As soon as we sat down, a girl about my age trotted up. She was dressed in many skirts and her hair was braided tightly. That must be how he had excepted me to dress. I almost snorted as I noticed her stare.

"What'll it be, Bard Evan?" She chirruped.

"Roast mutton and dumplings for me, Sierra! And the lighter ale, of course."

"An yer lady friend?"

"The same, except water instead of ale, please." The mutton would no doubt give me a stomach ache, but the ale would do much worse.

"The food'll be ou' ina bit, then." The girl left.

"No ale? It makes the mutton taste better," he said curiously.

I shook my head. "I don't drink, Evan."

"Ah, another strange custom of your land, perhaps?"

A smile formed, despite my attempts not to. "Not usually, just an odd custom of mine." I jumped, sending my glasses spinning off onto the table, as the door slammed open and several people tromped in. I captured my glasses finally and turned to watch as several greeted Evan like an old friend. Others wandered over to the bar and demanded food and drink and a few sat down at tables around us. Two sat beside me and I shuffled away uncomfortably, ducking my head and hoping they wouldn't ask me any questions.

Thankfully they chattered animatedly with Evan, so I turned my head to study them, curious in spite of myself. One wore the same brilliant white uniform-like dress that I had seen flying past before I ran into Evan. His green eyes looked seriously at Evan as he spoke- something about strange disturbances in the land. The other was dressed far more drably and once his initial greetings were exchanged, was silent, merely listening quietly to the other two. Mostly leather and hard-worn cloth made up most of his garb. He glanced at me and I looked away quickly. His eyes startled me although I could not have said exactly _why _they did so. Brown-almost shading to buttery gold they were. Not extraordinary in any way. I gulped. Surely it was the scars on his face that had frightened me! Surely! I clasped my hands in my lap and prayed, not knowing what to say or what to ask, simply sending up a silent paean of helplessness.

The man in question grimaced. He'd scared another one. Damn! And a pretty one at that, for all her outlandish clothing. Soft blond hair drifted slightly in the heavy draft from the fireplace and her eyes, what he could see of them behind those strange spectacles, were pale blue- almost grey. A thin clean face untouched as yet by the ravages of time perched above a body that, had his former comrades been here, would have been the talk of the tents. Not that she was over-endowed. But with just enough padding to add soft curves right where they should be. Brennan smiled sadly. Not that she'd look twice at him! A rough and tumble, down on his luck, beaten up merc? Hah! He turned his attention back to what the Herald was babbling about and had been for quite some time. He'd heard rumors of the strange change circles, but had yet to see one himself. From the sound of things, that might be for the best.

The young woman gasped as their food arrived and he eyed her curiously. Those strange looking spectacles suggested that she didn't see well. The only other time he had seen a pair was at the Guildhall, when the Guildmasters had ruled in the hearing about him and his former comrades. He pushed the memory away. That had no bearing here. At least he hoped it didn't. Then said spectacles had been used only briefly to read some handwritten notes. These he doubted she could do without, they were so thick. Idly he wondered how someone so nearsighted could survive into adulthood. She was no highborn lady. That was obvious from her clothes! Yet she didn't have the manners of a whore or the calluses of a fieldworker, although calluses she did have, he noted as she lifted a fork-full of noodles to her mouth.

Soon there were calls from the others in the inn for Evan to give them some entertainment. The Bard produced his favorite lute and drum, taking his accustomed seat before the fireplace. He kept his seat next to the odd lady, noting Evan's worried pleading glance at him and interpreting it to mean that the Bard didn't want her bothered. Well, he could take care of that much, at least.

She fell asleep at some point, head resting on her arms upon the tabletop and he carried Evan's lute and drum upstairs behind him as the Bard carried the lady to her rooms next to the Bard's. The merc returned to his own rooms and fell into bed and silent slumber.

The next day he found them in the stables, beside to Evan's brown gelding.

"Found a new playmate already, Evan? Isn't she a bit young for you?" Brennan joked, chuckling at his old friend's surprised and outraged look.

"No and yes! Besides, I just met her yesterday." The Bard snorted. "She's too much of a puzzle to ruin by a quick roll in the hay, Brennan." Evan chided as he pulled a money pouch from his belt and counted out several silver and copper coins. "Take her to the weaver's and get her proper travelling clothes. And the cobbler's for boots! Those strange shoes she has won't last long on the road. Make sure no one accosts her please, old friend. She does not know the customs here."

Brennan tucked the money away carefully, nodding. She must be important to him if he were asking the merc to look after her. And she must _not_ be from around here if the Bard were asking _him_, of all people, to take a _lady _clothes shopping! "Where is she from then?"

The Bard grinned excitedly. "Somewhere I've never heard of. Also, take her to the jeweler and see if he can fix those odd spectacles of hers. Now I'm going to go find her a proper horse." The scarlet clad man turned away to speak quietly to the very strangely clad young woman with the wire and glass contraption perched on her face. He turned back to Brennan.

"Brennan, this is Anna. Please look after her while I attend to business." With that, the Bard left.

The young lady-Anna, he reminded himself, bowed her head to him. "I am pleased to meet you, Sir Brennan," she said softly.

"Just- Brennan, please lady. I'm no temple knight." He blushed in spite of himself. Her words brought back memories he did not wish to be reminded of here and now. Even though his soul longed for the quiet domed ceilings and dusty prayer cells of his once home, he could never return there.

"Then please call me Anna, not 'lady' as everyone around here seems so fond of doing."

He grinned at the hint of soured steel in her voice and gestured for her to follow him. "Gladly, Anna." This was definitely going to be more interesting than sitting around at the Guildhall, hoping someone would hire him. The weather seemed like it might hold again today, although there was always the chance it would dissolve into heavy storms as it had for the past few weeks. He figured she would be best off with clothes first and lead her to the small shop stuffed with cloth and the large weaver, Jenna.

In almost no time at all, the heavyset lady had measured Anna and determined what kinds of clothes she would need from questioning Brennan, since after the first round of pleasantries, it was clear to her that Anna had some very odd notions of dress indeed!

Next was the cobbler and while the man was surprised that a lady such as she would want or need heavy riding boots, he measured her feet and promised them within a day or two. Brennan noted Anna's longing glance at the cobbler's rolls of leather lacing and figured he would ask later. Out of curiosity, he added a roll of the heavy stuff, figuring he could use it for re-lacing his boots, if nothing else.

It was not until they had reached the jeweler's guarded shop that they ran into trouble. Anna stumbled three steps from the door, seemingly overcome by a dizzy spell and the skies opened up, drenching them. He scooped the girl up and carried her into the shop, shoving the door closed behind him with his shoulder. Quickly setting her down next to a chair the jeweler gestured to absently, he caught her glasses as they finally came off. She took them back from him with a nod of thanks and laid them on the jeweler's bargaining table, fishing for the pieces that had come loose in her pockets.

Predictably, the old man started to hammer her with questions about the making of those strange spectacles and she stuttered out a few confusing answers as Brennan caught the jeweler's attention with a cough and shook his head. The jeweler quickly apologized and between the two of them, they determined how best to cobble the crushed pieces back together. The merc watched curiously as the pieces were painstakingly re-assembled by judicious application of a candle and metal shaping rod and then reinforced with thin practice wire from his apprentices' stores. Finally Anna pronounced them done and, after waiting for them to cool, molded them to her face, where they finally stayed.

By now, it was starting to get dark out, so Brennan led her back to the inn from which they'd started. There, they found Evan with a fiddle to his chin, in the midst of a knot of dancers who made up for their lack of knowledge of dance with sheer enthusiasm. Anna gaped and stopped in her tracks.

"How do they avoid tripping over each other?" She murmured, unconsciously backing away.

Brennan chuckled. "They don't. Just watch." He led her to a bench safely out of the way of the seemingly insane dancers. Not two minutes after they sat, one dancer went a bit too fast and tripped, falling against one of the serving wenches who had a platter full of food and three drinks in one hand, knocking her sprawling onto a table of travelers. They sorted themselves out, with a lot of laughter and raucous comments and Bard Evan started a softer, slower tune.


	3. Chapter 3

I stood, intending to follow the Bard, but just then the table next to us erupted into violence and I was flung in the opposite direction. I heard Brennan shouting something as I rolled under another table and curled into a ball beneath it. The sounds of breaking furniture and shouting were all around and I dared not move from under my shaky shelter for fear of being stepped on. Suddenly my shelter was gone as someone landed atop it and sent it crackling downward. My heart was already pounding, but this sent it into overdrive and I watched as the thick planks came towards me in seeming slow motion. There was nowhere to escape to, as the table was at the center of the fight. I closed my eyes and prayed, shuddering as another dizzy spell swept over me, bringing with it painless unconsciousness.

Brennan watched in utter surprise as the table that Anna had chosen to hide under literally exploded outwards, throwing the mix of combatants outward against the walls. He winced as one or two bounced off the ceiling, then waded forward, hoping that she was still in one piece under all that mess. He knelt beside the still form and carefully checked her pulse. Yes, she was alive, thank the Sunlord! He breathed a sigh of relief and scooped her up gently, intending to stow her in her rooms until she woke.

"Is she all right?" Evan rested his hand against her forehead and yanked it back quickly, stifling a grimmace.

"She's alive." He shrugged, wondering at his brother's odd reaction. "Maybe she'll wake up faster upstairs, where it's quieter?"

"I think that would be a very good idea. We don't want any more exploding tables." A third voice intruded and the Herald beckoned them up the old stairs. Evan nodded and followed his brothers up the stairs.

"That's quite a Fetching talent she's got," Tiernan said as he closed the door behind them.

"But she didn't show any evidence of it before!" Brennan glared at his little brother in his 'shoot me' suit.

The Herald shrugged. "Sometimes talents manifest under extreme stress. Although I don't understand how a bar fight could be that extreme."

Evan shook his head. "She's not from around here or anywhere else I've been, Tiernan. Her manner of dress, speech patterns, even the way she reacts to everyday things make that clear. I was planning on bringing her to Haven and seeing what the Queen's advisors make of her."

"Good idea, Evan. I'd talk to the Weaponsmaster Kerowyn. She might know where this young lady is from, or know someone who knows. There's also some Mages at the Court who might know." Tiernan smiled. "I'd go with you, but I'm carrying dispatch notices and have to run."

Brennan snorted. "You'll beat us there by a week, Hotfoot."

"That's sore rump to you, beetle crusher!"

"Can you tell if she has any other Gifts, Tier?' Evan asked, interrupting their long-standing argument.

The Herald gently placed one hand on her forehead and closed his eyes. "A lot of Fetching, some Farsight and Thought-Sensing. And something else that kind of looks like the Bardic Gift, but not quite." He shrugged. "I certainly don't know what to make of it. Maybe the folks at the Colegium would have a better idea."

The Bard frowned. "Is there any chance she'll be Chosen?"

Tiernan blinked, then looked off into space. "Alyssa says 'probably not'. She says 'she has a good soul, but is needed elsewhere'." He looked from one brother to the other and shrugged, as confused as the rest of them over that remark.

I woke slowly, wondering why I was laying on something soft. Was I dead? No, I decided not. If I were, it was highly unlikely there would be a card game going on. Opening my eyes turned out to be a mistake as pain stabbed into them at the soft candle light. The argument over the card game stopped at my groan and Bard Evan asked if I needed anything.

"Aspirin," I mumbled, forgetting they probably wouldn't have that here.

"I don't know what that is, but here's some willowbark tea that should help with the reaction headache." That sounded like the Herald that Evan had been talking to this morning. I took the warm mug and drank the whole thing, grimacing at the taste.

"Thank you," I rasped as the pounding headache receded. "Why did you call it a 'reaction headache'?" My brain finally caught up with me and asked before I could close my mouth and I heard rather than saw the looks being exchanged.

"Do you remember what happened downstairs?" Brennan asked softly.

"Yeah, someone started a fight and I ended up under a table." I eyed them, noting how all three of their faces looked so similar in this soft light.

"Well, do you remember the table collapsing?" The Herald asked carefully.

"Yes."

"Do you remember anything after that?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Because you made the table explode." Evan said.

I looked at him. It didn't seem like he was teasing. In fact all three of their faces were serious in the soft candle light. "How?"

Evan sat down beside the bed. "I don't know what it's like where you come from, but here, some people have certain abilities- Gifts, we call them. You seem to have the one we call 'Fetching'. That is: you are able to move things with your mind."

I frowned, but nodded for him to continue. Instead, the Herald took up the story. "You also seem to have what we call the 'Farseeing Gift'. It means you can see things that you would normally be unable to. And you have the 'Thought-Sensing Gift', which means you can hear what people think if you try and also communicate without having to talk."

"I see." I said. Suddenly I remembered one of my Aunt's favorite sayings and nodded. "'Where there is a will, there is a way.'"

Brennan raised his eyebrows. "Yes, something like that."

Evan stood. "We should let you get some sleep. We are leaving for Haven tomorrow and should be heading out early. Call out if you need anything, Anna."

"Goodnight," I said as they trooped out.


	4. Chapter 4

Evan turned his horse off the road and found us a small copse away from the main path. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slid off the horse, intending to remove my gear and the saddle once I got my feet on solid ground. However, I didn't get the chance. My legs buckled under me and I landed in an annoyed heap next to the thankfully tranquil horse. My nose wrinkled at the _squelch _that greeted me when I hit the ground. Thank goodness my glasses stayed put! The jeweler had been surprised by their construction, but had been able to patch them back together at least.

Brennan's horse snorted as if amused and it looked like he was holding back his own laughter with an effort. I beat him to it and giggled. Evan turned to look and couldn't hold in the chuckles either. After regaining my breath, I stood and unsaddle my horse, setting my things well away from the muddy spot that I'd fallen into.

Rolling myself up in the bedding, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. But the soft noises of the forest now seemed magnified a thousand-fold and I could not seem to tune them out. Finally, I grimaced and began to hum one of the smaller soothingsongs Aunt had taught me, in the days after my parents' deaths when I could not sleep. Since we were out in the wilderness, I wove it into a wardingsong also, wondering what my venerable Aunt would think of this place. She would probably love it here. I had never learned what or who she truly was. I knew she was not a Wiccan, since she was capable of things that very few of the Wiccans I had met even considered possible. But that was the religion she claimed, even though it earned her the enmity of her neighbors. All I knew was that while my parents had hated her, they had set out in their wills that, should they die untimely, I would live with her until my 18th birthday or until I chose to leave. She had taught me a great deal of the things she knew and while I was not anywhere near as good at most of them, I still soaked up the knowledge like a hungry sponge. I smiled drowsily and fell asleep, remembering those amazing years.

In the morning, little was said as Brennan deftly cooked a small camp breakfast and we packed our bedding and other camping things. We ate in companionable silence and fell into the routine of long travel. It was perhaps three days later that I made the mistake and forgot to set my wardingsong before falling asleep.

I woke to shouting and smoke-filled confusion, scrambling out of my blankets and bolting instinctively for the forest. They followed me a ways, then turned back at the shouted commands of their leader. Evidently he figured either the forest could have me, or I'd come crawling back to my own kind out of fear of the wilderness. I snorted in amusement as I curled up under one of the great pine trees. The forest held no fear to me. I knew I was safe in it. Safer perhaps than among my own kind, I thought ruefully.

"What to do about the Bard and the merc," I murmured, sifting though the lore and songs my Aunt had given me. Then I frowned as I remembered the Herald's words. What was this 'Fetching Gift' he spoke off? And Farseeing? I removed my glasses and closed my eyes, trying to remember his words. Then, struggling to relax and focus at the same time, I reached out in a direction that I had never been before, but it still seemed familiar from half remembered dreams.

Fighting not to dismiss the vision that rose in my mind as my own stressed imagination, I memorized the positions of the guards and how they had bound their prisoners. The scene vanished and vise tightened around my forehead. I whimpered, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. It _hurt_! After several calming breaths, I whispered a calling to the slight breezes that wandered here and there beneath the great pine. Those two had helped me when they could have just abandoned me and washed their hands of the matter. I owed them! Resting beneath the great tree, I hoped something useful would answer my callingsong soon.

Brennan stifled the groan that tried to slip out as his head throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Somehow they'd been taken unawares and bound. His hands and feet tingled painfully.

"'E's awake." A gust of onion-laden breath almost made him choke as he was lifted and shaken.

"Put him down, Harse. I'd like to talk to him, not torture him. At least not yet."

Inwardly he cursed. He knew that voice and had hoped never to hear it again. That also explained why someone would have attempted to capture a full Bard.

"Well met, Sir Brennan, well met." The man's scarred face leered at him from across the fire. "I've been hoping to meet you again. You know what the guild did to us, don't you? Hmm. But of course you do, you planned it after all!"

He shook his head, praying that they hadn't cracked Evan's skull. "I planned nothing, Marc. I only answered their questions truthfully." His vision exploded in sparks as the bandit punched him in the jaw.

"You expect me to believe that?" Marc hissed, madness glimmering dangerously in his eyes.

I eyed the madman from the cover of the trees and wondered what was going on. He continued to pummel and shout at Brennan, who finally curled up into a ball. The rest of them sat or sprawled listlessly around the small fire and I spotted Evan's mud blemished reds to one side. They'd bound and gagged him, but thankfully hadn't beaten him yet.

There was a breathy hiss from the creature that clung to my back and I set it down. It looked like a small raccoon, except its mask was silver. I pointed to the Bard and tried to get across to it what I wanted it to do. Finally it chattered quietly at me and disappeared into the light undergrowth, hopefully heading to the Bard.

Now I just had to figure out what to do about the madman. He'd finally stopped hitting Brennan and stood, arms hanging loose at his sides, spittle dribbling down his chin as he ranted about some trial. The rest I could probably put to sleep relatively easily. They seemed halfway there already. But this one presented a problem. He was obviously mad and might react dangerously to a soothingsong. Evan stirred slowly in the shadows and I held my breath, praying that the rest of the group wouldn't notice him.

Then I began the breathy, whispered melody of a seemingsong and spun its gossamer threads about the Bard. _He still sleeps_, I sang to the tired, hard-worn guards. _He does not move_, I murmured to the former mercenaries. _Rest, sleep, there is no danger_, I sang, directing my song to the group and ignoring their leader. Him I dared not touch. Evan looked around, amazement on his face as his guards ignored him and fell asleep! Then he spotted the madman silhouetted against the fire and his face hardened. He evidently knew that one. He reached behind him, slowly pulling a heavy halberd out of a slumbering guard's hands. The man stirred and snorted in his sleep but did not wake. Then Evan uncoiled from his almost prone position and brought the weapon crashing down on the madman's head with a final sounding _thunk_! Brennan uncurled and helped roll the man away from the fire while I poured my own energy into the soothingsong and prayed it would hold long enough as I stepped out of the brush.

Brennan stared, but Evan just handed me my pack and we tiptoed to where the horses were tied. I mounted up clumsily and pulled a piece of rope from my saddle, tossing it to Brennan and explaining with gestures what I wanted, whispering the soothingsong the whole time, as my strength began to fail me. He tied me to the saddle quickly and mounted his own horse, tying a lead rein to my palfrey's bridle. We fled, leaving behind a slowly stirring camp full of drowsy bandits and an unconscious madman.


	5. Chapter 5

The saddle-sore days ran together into a blur much like what I saw without my glasses. Somewhere along the line, the little raccoon creature had rejoined us and clung doggedly to my shoulder. The other two had remard on it, but had not tried to capture or injure it, thankfully, Bard Evan said it was probably from somewhere called the Pelagirs and when I showed no recognition of the name, launched into a fascinating, long winded explanation of what they were and what they contained. My heart sank as my suspicions were confirmed. This place had very little technology. It was perhaps the equivalent of Medieval Europe, with the shocking exception of Gifts, which Evan also happily answered my questions about. Then he and Brennan began to ask questions of their own.

We had camped for the night a ways off the road. Brennan had lead in choosing our camping area this time, for none of us wished to repeat the happenings of a few days ago. Evan started a small campfire, choosing the sticks and things that he fed it with care to the amount of smoke it gave off and Brennan dug out our dwindling food supplies with an eye towards making dinner. When they'd both finished and we all had something to eat, even the raccoon creature that still followed me, the two glanced at each other and Evan cleared his throat.

"When we were taken prisoner by Marc, it seemed we were lost. But you reappeared and somehow freed us. How did you manage that?" His voice was gentle and Brennan seemed to have more interest in his food, but I was not fooled. Aunt had told me time and time again never to Sing in front of others. I had broken that training in order to save two lives who had helped me, however, there would be consequences, as always.

Brennan cleared his throat quietly, his eyes shining in the soft light from our fire. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's just that what you did was like no Gift we've ever seen nor heard tell of. And we have both worked with Mages a time or two. You seem well trained in its use, if unused to applying it."

"Trained?" I snorted. "I barely know anything of it- I learned all that I was able to learn and still don't even know what it is called." The look on Brennan's face made me bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Nor what it is ultimately capable of." A shrug disturbed the little creature on my shoulder, although it made no noise of protest. "Besides, I never dared to use it that freely before. Aunt warned me against using it around others. I think I am beginning to understand why." With that, I stood and went for a walk. Within a few minutes, I knew Brennan was following me, even though his movements through the dense forest were all but inaudible. He came no closer and for some reason I felt safer with him there. I sat beneath one of the now rare giant pines to think.


End file.
